


Two halves of a whole

by Hyperpnea



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Coalition, F/F, Fanart, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 04:04:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10631814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyperpnea/pseuds/Hyperpnea
Summary: Soulmate!AU where soulmates can feel the same pain that the other half experiences.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Might have a few mistakes. I haven't read the book since last year. Enjoy ;)

 

The connection of soulmates to each other is terribly romantic. The connection starts at fourteen years old, when you feel a sudden zap of electricity burning beneath your skin, and after then you would feel pain from unbroken and unblemished skin, and you would know that it is not yours but from your other half. The older ones in the bond are more unlucky, especially if their other half is often injured and generally clumsy. And Death— it will be shared as well, because every person is a half and can only be completed by their respective partner.

 

At the eve of his fourteenth birthday, Tyrannus Basilton Pitch is writhing on his bed in the Mummers House, feeling like he is being burned by the stake which is lit by a lightning. He curls his toes and grip his shoulders, his screams are muffled by his teeth harshly biting his lower lip, until it bleeds and dribbles on the corner of his mouth.

 

Simon Snow sleeps heavily on the other side of the room, unbothered and not at all in pain. Baz just wants to punch him or kiss him or cuddle him— anything that could make Simon feel the same way as him at the moment. Because Baz is hurting so much right now, so naturally, Simon should be hurting as well. 

 

Baz grips the side of his head, his hand harshly pulling at his hair, and he turns away from Simon Snow instead of glaring at him like it was his fault. He sighs and forcibly shuts his eyes, willing the hurt away, and he lets the thrumming of his quite-dead pulse lull him to sleep.

 

* * *

 

When Baz feels the sudden collision of an invisible force hitting his lower right leg, he stumbles forward and stops walking altogether, kneading at the forming bruise.

 

Niall and Dev stop walking too and look at him, confusion with a hint of worry twisting their face. “You okay, mate?” Niall asks.

 

“Fine. I’m fine. Just a bloody rock.” Baz reassures.

 

Niall and Dev look at each other then back at Baz and shrug at the same time. “If you say so.”

 

They start making their way to the cafeteria again and Dev removes himself a bit from the front, unnoticeable and gradual, before noting the way Baz strides with a limp. Dev knows that Baz turned fourteen yesterday because he doesn’t forget birthdays, especially bond days, and he lets himself wonder if the pain really came from a ‘bloody rock’.

 

He sees Snow and Bunce about to walk out of the cafeteria when their group are perched in their own table, unaware of their arrival, and Dev registers sharply that Snow is almost bouncing in one feet, as if his other feet is fractured. Or maybe it was hit by a ‘bloody rock’. 

 

Dev sniffs, and thinks: _ ‘It must be a coincidence.’ _

 

He should have known that coincidence does not exist in a world of magic.

 

* * *

 

Baz is down at the catacombs, slumped on the wall.

 

He couldn’t move. Every movement makes his muscles and bones cry in unwanted agony and strain, and Baz doesn’t understand if he should be pleased or horrified or disgusted. He realizes, with a certain clarity, that Simon Snow is his soulmate. 

 

The pain racking his body after he pushed the  beautiful irritating blonde in a flight of stairs proof enough, because he’d seen how Simon rolled, what places he had hit, and Baz is aching in all the right places. He may have fled like a coward afterwards, but that was before he saw Bunce running towards them in a whirlwind of rage and concern. 

 

Baz could still see the betrayed expression in Simon’s face when Baz had thrust his arm, bumping it on the upper part of Simon’s spine and Baz’ heart lurches, skidding to a halt as if it hadn’t stopped all those years ago in the nursery when he was turned. 

 

His soul also falls when Simon does.

 

Simon is the one claiming Baz to be his archnemesis, so why had he looked like his trust was broken? Like he had trusted him to begin with?

 

(  _ ‘Maybe he did.’ _ A voice whispers in the depths of his mind, ‘ _ Maybe he trusted you enough to know that you would play fair, that you would fight him with pride face-to-face, and you had broken that trust. Now, he will know you to be a coward, that you would do everything in your abilities to kill him, so that he would not get in the way. _ ’)

 

Baz grits his teeth, the tang of blood from the rat he has drained still remaining in his mouth, and he hates it. Hates himself because he is a vampire. Hates himself because he is a Pitch. Hates himself because the only gaze he will receive from Simon is endless hatred and never love. Hates himself because despite the bond, they will never be together. 

 

After three more rats, Baz heaves himself and goes back to the Mummers House, numb and more broken.

 

* * *

Baz is there when it is Simon’s turn to cry out in anguish in the middle of the night, quiet groans and lengthy whimpers escaping his pale lips, and his fists tearing at his mattress. He is unconscious, Baz notices, and his tears are a continuous stream sliding down his ears.

 

Baz doesn’t know what he’s doing before he realizes that he is reaching out a hand to gently stroke a couple of stray damp strands on Simon’s forehead. Baz flinches when Simon leans forward to keep Baz from breaking the contact, as if it has alleviated Simon from the pain that he is going through.

 

Baz pats him gingerly and hushes him, humming a tone afterwards that he has never heard in his entire life before.

 

“It’s okay, Simon. You’re okay.” Baz repeats to him constantly, and Simon lets out a soft sigh of relief, his golden lashes fluttering in contentment. When Baz removes his hand from Simon, Simon’s breathing is already even.

 

Baz looks out for him incase it reoccurs, and after an hour of peaceful snores, Baz decides to go to sleep.

 

* * *

The morning after, Simon looks at Baz oddly like he has never seen him before.

 

Baz finds that he couldn’t read Simon when he gets like that and it gnaws at him, because there are very few things about Simon that Baz doesn’t know and he doesn’t like it.

 

“Have you finally lost your mind, Snow? Not that you had any to begin with.” Baz snaps an insult, after a few more minutes of Simon staring at him and Baz being disturbed by said act.

 

Simon shakes his head and dangles his feet on the end of his bed, looking at the floor. 

 

Baz is now seriously worried. 

 

Baz trains his eyes at Simon’s heavy movements when the blonde stomps towards the bathroom, swaying a little and Baz’ eyes widen in alarm when Simon looks like he would hit the wall than enter the door. 

 

With some quick vampiric reflexes, Baz is already in Simon’s side within two strides and three seconds, grabbing roughly at Simon’s shoulder before wincing himself at the shared pain, “Eyes are meant to see where you are going. Shouldn’t you make better use of it, Snow?”

 

Simon somehow breaks whatever trance he is in because he shrugs off Baz’ hold with a roll of shoulder and flicking hand, “I don’t see why you care, Baz.” Simon replies without any heat in it, “Or do you have any reason to?”

 

“Excuse me? You can get eaten by a chimera or feasted by wolves for all I care. Did you see me caring when I pushed you down the stairs?”

 

A shadow crosses in Simon’s blue eyes and stays, and Simon closes his hands into fists. Baz knows this time that he’s gone too far. 

 

“Okay.” Simon says coldly and slams the door to Baz’ face.

 

Baz stalks away from their room and feels the edge of his palm stinging, as if it was being constantly hammered to a hard surface.

 

_ ‘So much for preventing bodily pain.’  _ Baz snorts and sinks into despondency.

 

* * *

Simon becomes more careless than before.

 

Little pains like being stabbed in the index finger by a very sharp pencil or smacking his thighs below his desk or unbearable pains like a brush of hand at the aluminum of a boiling kettle, or bumping his head on something hard to a dizzying degree. Whatever the case, Baz gets the feeling that half of these are done by Simon’s own volition, because after he hurts himself, he looks at Baz as if he knows that Baz will be hurting as well. 

 

Baz couldn’t help but suspect that Simon knows about the bond, about them being soulmates. But he couldn’t bring himself to hope. He is still running like the established coward he is.

 

Baz tries not to clench his fists too hard in hopes of avoiding his nails biting at the skin of his palm, or gnawing at his lower lip in frustration until it bled, because Simon would feel the pain and Baz is afraid that somehow, Simon would get the confirmation that Baz is really his soulmate.

 

Baz doesn’t need that. He doesn’t need Simon thawing at the walls of lies he enveloped himself in only to break him apart. He doesn’t need Simon so that he could live his life as a Pitch and as a secret vampire. 

 

He doesn’t need Simon Snow in his life.

 

* * *

Agatha watches at the sidelines, watches at the drama of the whole Watford. And frankly, she’s tired of it.

 

She sees Simon with his longing glances (again) at Baz and Baz with the same intensity at Simon when Simon isn’t looking. She and Simon has it sorted out a few months ago, at the start of their Fifth year that they don’t really feel romance with each other, only love reserved for best friends. And even if they stayed together, they would just be lying to each other, and it was only a matter of time since Agatha isn’t Simon’s soulmate.

 

Since Agatha is for Penelope, and Simon is quite possibly for Baz.

 

“This is a train wreck.” She whispers with a grimace and Penelope beside her shakes her head, interlocking their fingers together.

 

“They’re chasing around each other in circles.” Penelope agrees, “Simon is fine with it, but Baz looks like he’s still in some state of denial.”

 

“Somebody needs to beat some sense into Baz. This is getting ridiculous.” 

 

“That’s the thing, Baz won’t listen.” Penelope and Agatha startle at the new voice and turn their head in a whiplash, only to find Niall and Dev beside them, frown heavy in their faces.

 

Penelope drags a hand to her forehead, “Merlin, are they the only one who doesn’t know?”

 

“When I noticed it, I told Niall, and then he said that he knows. I have half a mind to think that half of the Watford knows that both of them are pining towards each other. It’s so obvious you would have to be blind not to see it.” Dev says, exasperated.

 

“What do you mean by Baz wouldn’t listen?” Agatha asks.

 

Niall winces, “We tried to give Baz a hint, yeah? We were brushed off like flies. He said that it wasn’t our business.”

 

Penelope stands of from her chair with a desperate expression, “I’m going to corner that little shit and make him see sense.”

 

“No, Pen, wait, I have an idea.” Agatha hurriedly says and smiles like a cheshire cat.

 

 

* * *

“Oh no, Simon, are you okay?” Penelope gasps most falsely as Simon crashes down on the ground, being caught by an arm during the fall.

 

“Hey, mate, what the hell?” Niall says monotonously, supporting Simon as he turns his head towards Penelope, “Help me out, Bunce. He needs to go to the infirmary.”

 

Penelope replies with a nod, but the corners of her mouth are twitching upwards. The students surrounding them are not surprised because it really is a very horrible act.

 

* * *

Baz catches himself with a hand on a window sill, suddenly drowsy but still in the planes of consciousness before a flash of blonde crashes at him that sends him sprawling butt-first to the concrete. He is, of course, very displeased.

 

The flash of blonde, however, turns out to be Wellbelove, who is bawling her eyes out and rubbing at it gracefully.

 

“O-oh, I’m so sorry Baz, for running in you like t-that.”

 

Baz narrows his eyes, before asking like a gentleman he is, “It’s quite alright, Wellbelove. What happened?”

 

“I- S-simon.” Baz’ heart dislodges from its cage, wakefulness annihilating every bit of himself that is falling asleep. But Wellbelove continues crying, and Baz slips his mask of indifference again which somehow slipped off when she said his name.

 

“What about Snow?” He asked slowly, hoping to the gods that it was just Snow dumping Wellbelove.

 

“H-he won’t wake!” And Baz’ blood turns to ice. “We tried to— I tried to— but I wasn’t enough. I was never enough.”

 

“What. What do you—”

 

“It’s a fairy tale spell, mixed in Simon’s food. W-we think it’s the Humdrum, but we’re still not sure.” Agatha sniffs, eyes puffy red. 

 

“What fairy tale? What line?” 

 

Agatha levels her gaze at him, “That Simon needs True Love’s kiss. I-I’m not his soulmate, I know about that at least but I-I think it has to be his—”

 

Baz is already running.

 

Agatha looks at him and wipes at her eyes, “Oh shit, I didn’t tell him that Simon’s at the Mummers house.”

 

* * *

“Anybody knows why Wellbelove, Bunce, Snow, Pitch and Greene are absent?” The professor asks languidly, critically eyeing her students who are all looking at everything but her.

 

Dev stands up, “I’m sorry ma’am, all of them have a… err stomachache. They will be present next time.”

 

“What a coincidence! For them to experience stomachache  _ at the same time _ .” The professor’s eyes are now a pair of slits, “Unless the five of them are soulmates, which is very unlikely, then you might want to reconsider lying next time, Mr. Hooves.”

 

Dev dryly gulps. Why the bloody hell is this his task?

 

* * *

After stopping at the infirmary and finding out that Snow isn’t there, Baz sprints towards the Mummers house. Simon has to be in the Mummers House.

 

Baz slams the door open only to see Simon lying lifelessly on his bed and Bunce sitting beside him, her hand atop of his. Baz can feel the hearth of his burning jealousy growing.

 

Penelope blinks at him, at his disheveled form, and is quite pleased, “Spells doesn’t work, and we’ve already force fed him potions.” She says, her tone grave.

 

“Oh.”

 

Penelope stands up and moves toward the exit, “As much as I hate it, It’s up to you, Baz. Wake him up.” 

 

Their shoulders brush together before Penelope is closing the door behind him, and Baz closes his eyes, because of course, Bunce would know. Bunce is one of the smartest and most perceptive person he had met. 

 

The adrenalin wears off from Baz and he drags himself to Simon’s bedside, stroking his hair gently, like the night when Simon experienced the beginning of the bond.

 

The bond that should not have been. Because someday, he would be killing Simon, or Simon would be killing him and as a result, the other would die. Never for an instance did Baz think that they could escape their destiny, that they could escape being the political pawn to the two sides on the verge of war. They were the expendables, but their deaths would be the deciding point. 

 

His palm cups the side of Simon’s cheek and he leans forward, pressing his lips chastely on Simon’s dry one, allowing himself a bit of selfishness.

 

Baz finds that it’s okay for Simon to wreck him until he shatters, destroy him until he turns into dust and carried by the wind, but he wishes so desperately that Simon would not break together with him because of the stupid soulmate bond. If only Simon had another soulmate, like Wellbelove or anyone, really. Anyone that wouldn’t end up hurting Simon, and Baz is fine with that. Unlike fairy tales, he and Simon could never be granted a happy ending.

 

He opens his mouth when a tongue prods against his upper lip and Baz realizes too late that there are hands on both sides of his face. He tries to draw back in surprise and with a not-so-hidden fear but the hands forces him to stay still, and Simon’s tongue invades his mouth, tasting, taking and Baz wanted this for a really long time.

 

So Baz concedes.

 

Baz glides his pink flesh on Simon’s teeth and Simon moans, his other hand shooting up to scrabble at Baz’ back and Baz is being pulled down, until he lay on Simon’s top, their breaths mingling together, Baz using both of his arms as a leverage to keep himself upright and from completely falling down against Simon. 

 

After bruising their mouth from excessive kissing, Baz is the one who pulls out before staring at the beautiful blown wide blue eyes. Simon, on the other hand, lightly squeezes Baz’ jaw, rubbing his thumb to and fro slowly, a soft smile playing on his lips.

 

“I’m not allowed to have you.” Baz says silently, voice small, weak and pleading.

 

Simon frowns, but there is understanding reflected in his eyes, “But you want me, don’t you?”

 

“I do.” Baz answers without a pause, “But—”

 

Simon pulls him in for another kiss, “That’s all I need to know.”

 

“The spell—”

 

“Is made by Penny, most likely.” When Baz gives him a look of disbelief, Simon chuckles, “Before I was reeling down, I heard her apologize and I was caught by Greene. They were the last I saw before I passed out.”

 

“By Niall? But why would he…” Baz trails and remembers his conversations with Niall and Dev a few days ago. He thought they were just being nosy but. Baz impossibly heats up, despite his pale skin. “But you and Agatha—”

 

“Are friends. Penny is her soulmate.” 

 

Baz gapes at him and Simon steals another kiss, which lasted for about four minutes before somebody pulls out again to take a breather.

 

“I was thoroughly deceived.” Baz states, but the absence of anger is prominent.

 

“That you are.” Simon nuzzles at Baz’ nose,” Are you getting back to snogging me very soon? Because I may well just actually die if you don’t.” 

 

“Does snogging raise your IQ? I thought you were hopeless in that area.” Simon punches Baz’ arm, smiling good-naturedly.

 

“I might snatch the 1st rank if there was some buggering involved.”

 

Baz laughs loudly at Simon’s admission, “No buggering for you then. ” 

 

At Simon’s deflating expression, Baz kisses Simon’s brow tenderly, “Not yet, anyway.”

 

Simon grins cheekily at him, “Can I hold you on to that promise, yeah?”

 

“That you can.” Baz promises and finds it in himself once more that their destiny as enemies be damned, because Baz is tired of running, and for this beautiful boy beneath him, he wouldn’t mind trading the world.

 

* * *

Penelope kisses Agatha’s cheek and holds out an ‘Okay’ finger signal to Niall and Dev when they gather again in the cafeteria.

 

“Oh gods, finally!” Niall throws out his hands in the air and rejoices. Agatha sighs in accomplishment and Dev’s mouth slowly forms into a large beam. 

  
“Just don’t forget that Baz will have a row with us, though. And probably Simon too.” Penelope adds and the happiness dies a little.

 


End file.
